


A Halloween Costume for Rosie

by katfevre



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, Halloween Costumes, Halloween Gift Exchange, Post TFP, Rosie's first Halloween, Sherlolly - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-20 22:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12443058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katfevre/pseuds/katfevre
Summary: BBC Sherlock Trick-or-Treat Halloween Gift ExchangePrompt:  John, Sherlock, Molly, and Mrs.Hudson are all trying to come up with a Halloween costume idea for little Rosamund Watson. It starts out as just brainstorming, but quickly becomes competitive. What does Baby (or toddler? or kid?) Watson end up dressed as? and who had the final say?





	A Halloween Costume for Rosie

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainhookcaptainfreedom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainhookcaptainfreedom/gifts).



> I added Mycroft and Lestrade to the mix. This was a fun piece to write. Thank you to captainhookcaptainfreedom for the prompt.

Sherlock entered his flat and was surprised  to find Mrs. Hudson in his chair holding Rosie Watson.  He’d received a text earlier that day from Molly asking him to be home for dinner at 7pm.  He’d come home early, because he’d been unable to think of anything else except getting home to a delicious meal, followed by some canoodling on the couch with his girlfriend.  Mrs. Hudson and his goddaughter were definitely not part of the evening he’d been imagining.

“And this little piggie cried wee, wee, wee all the way home.”  Rosie giggled and smiled as Mrs. Hudson wiggled her fingers up one side of the girl’s body.

“Good evening, Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock greeted, unable to contain the smile brought out by the joyous sounds of the child’s laughter.  “Miss Watson,” he added, reaching for the child who was already reaching for him.

“Hello, Sherlock,” Mrs. Hudson said as she handed off the squirmy toddler.

“Damn,” Molly shouted from the kitchen.

Sherlock turned to see her leaning against the counter sucking on her thumb.

“Everything alright?” he asked.

“Oh, Sherlock, you’re home already?”  She met him in the kitchen doorway and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.  “Just nicked myself chopping tomatoes for the salad,” she explained before ducking down the hallway to the bathroom.

“Where do you want this Molly?” John grunted as he entered the flat carrying one end of Mrs. Hudson’s kitchen table.  Lestrade followed carrying the other end of the table.

Molly poked her head out of the bathroom and answered, “Just line it up with the other table.  You may have to move your chair over next to Sherlock’s.”

“Molly,” Sherlock called as he watched the furniture in his apartment being rearranged.  “Molly,” he called again more loudly.

“Yes, Sherlock,” she finally answered, coming out of the bathroom with a bandaged thumb and heading back to the cutting board.

“What’s going on?  Why are all these people in  _ my  _ flat?”

“I invited some friends over for dinner,” she explained simply.

“Hello, brother mine,” Mycroft called from the doorway, holding his umbrella in one hand and a bag with two bottles of wine in the other.

“Then why is he here?” Sherlock snarled.

“Sherlock, behave,” Mrs. Hudson scolded, eagerly relieving Mycroft of his contribution to the meal and taking it to the kitchen.

“Beee-have,” Rosie repeated, reaching a tiny hand out and patting Mycroft on the nose.

Mycroft stood frozen to the spot, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.

“Brilliant,” Sherlock chuckled.

“That’s my girl,” John called proudly from across the room.

“Mycroft, welcome,” Molly greeted warmly, coming to meet him at the door and, much to Sherlock’s dismay, kissing him on the cheek before relieving him of his umbrella.  “I’m so glad you could make it.  Do you mind lending me a hand setting the table?”

“No...um...not at all, Miss Hooper,” Mycroft said, clearing his throat and following her into the next room.

“Your Molly is quite the lion tamer,” Mrs. Hudson teased, settling back in Sherlock’s chair with a glass of wine.

His Molly?  He still couldn’t quite believe that he and Molly were in a relationship.  It had been eight months since Sherrinford.  Most days he knew he was a lucky fool to be so blessed; but, in moments like this, he wasn’t so sure he should have given up his bachelor life.  Molly had no right to invade his personal space and invite all these people, friends or not, here to ruin his...their...quiet evening.  He thought about telling her so but quickly pictured the lecture he would get about invading someone’s personal space, followed by a reminder of how he should be kinder to his friends and especially his brother.  He decided it would be best to keep his thoughts to himself, at least for now.

“It looks like someone’s ready for bed,” John whispered next to him.

“What?” Sherlock was confused until he looked down to see that Rosie had fallen asleep in his arms.

“I already set up a travel cot in your room,” John explained as he expertly eased the sleeping toddler out of Sherlock’s arms.

This evening definitely wasn’t going the way he’d planned, Sherlock lamented as he watched John disappear into his bedroom.

“Molly asked me to get the chairs from Mrs. Hudson’s flat,” Lestrade said, as he handed the two chairs he was carrying, one in each hand, to Sherlock before disappearing back down the stairs.

* * *

_ An hour later _

“You’ve out done yourself, Miss Hooper,” Mycroft praised as he wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“Anyone want seconds?” Molly asked.

“You mean thirds,” Sherlock mumbled, glaring at his older brother.

“I couldn’t eat another bite,” Mycroft answered, patting his slightly swollen stomach.

“None for me,” John said.

“It was delicious, Molly,” Lestrade added.

“Hopefully you’ve saved some room for dessert,” Molly teased, picking up her empty plate and then reaching for Mycroft’s.

“I can clean up,” Sherlock said a little too loudly, snatching Mycroft’s empty plate before Molly could.  He was feeling slightly grumpy after Molly had thanked all the other men in attendance for their help with getting the dinner ready.

“Thank you, Sherlock,” she rewarded him with a warm smile and a squeeze of his arm.

Sherlock quickly collected the rest of the empty plates, hoping this would initiate an immediate departure of the guests and finally leave him alone with Molly.

“I picked up an apple pie and a manchester tart at the market.”

“I’ll make coffee,” Mrs. Hudson offered, as she drained the last of the wine.

Sherlock groaned.

“Everything ok mate?” John asked.

“Fine,” Sherlock huffed as he stacked the dirty plates on the counter next to the sink.

Once everyone had been served dessert and coffee, Molly announced the real reason she’d invited them all together.

“There’s an important holiday coming up and John needs our help.”

“What?” John exclaimed, his next bite of pie stopping in mid air.

“What holiday?” Sherlock demanded.  “It’s only September.  Christmas is months away, and John’s birthday isn’t until April.”

“She’s referring to Halloween, you imbecile,” Mycroft informed smugly.

“Is that really a holiday?” Sherlock argued.

“Planning a Halloween party?” Lestrade inquired.  “Count me in.  My Dracula costume is always a hit with the ladies.”

“No, I’m not planning a Halloween party,” John snapped.  “Dracula?  Seriously?”

Lestrade just raised an eyebrow and bared his teeth.

“No, if I ever have a Halloween party, you are not invited,” John said, shaking his head before turning to Molly.  “Molly, what in the world are you talking about?”

“Remember, last week you were saying how this is going to be Rosie’s first Halloween, and you’ve no idea what costume to get for her?”

“This is hardly Rosie’s first Halloween.  She’s almost two,” Sherlock mocked.

“Yes, but we weren’t really up for any celebrations during her first Halloween,” John said with a knowing look.

“Right,” Sherlock agreed guiltily.

“I know the perfect costume for little Rosie,” Mrs. Hudson announced.  “You should dress her up as an angel, because she  _ is  _ an angel.”

“Boring,” Sherlock said.

Mrs. Hudson was startled but didn’t let Sherlock’s negative attitude deter her.  “Or how about a pumpkin?  She’d be so cute in a round, orange…”

“Boring!” Sherlock shouted.

“My daughters have dressed up as every Disney princess you can think of.  I’m sure their old costumes are stored somewhere at their mother’s house.  I think Shelly was Snow White when she was Rosie’s age and Natalie was Belle.  John could dress up as the Beast,” Lestrade suggested with a smirk.

“Sounds like a Freudian nightmare,” Sherlock sneered.

“If I may,” Mycroft piped up, “I think the best Halloween costume should be based on a classic horror movie icon, perhaps the Bride of Frankenstein?”

Sherlock hissed at Mycroft with disapproval.

“Really, must you be so childish?”

“How about a zombie?  Zombie’s are all the rage right now,” Lestrade suggested.

“I’m not dressing my daughter up as a zombie,” John said.

“I quite agree, John.  Rosie is much too intelligent to dress up as the undead.”

“I was thinking maybe a ninja or an undercover agent,” John suggested.

“Oh lord, we’ve gone from Freud to Jung.  Electra complex anyone?” Sherlock huffed.

“Really Sherlock,” Molly chastised.  “Maybe you should make a suggestion instead of insulting everyone else’s.”

“Right you are, Miss Hooper,” Mycroft smiled approvingly.

“Yea, what’s your brilliant idea?” Lestrade demanded.

“Please, don’t suggest anything involving blood, real or fake,” Mrs. Hudson pleaded with a shudder.

“Come on, Sherlock, I’m sure you’re dying to tell us what you think the perfect costume for Rosie should be,” John smirked, crossing his arms across his chest.

All eyes were now staring at Sherlock.  He honestly had no suggestions.  What did he know about Halloween costumes for a little girl?  It all seemed like a lot of fuss for nothing.  If John were smart, he would avoid the sugar-fueled holiday all together.  Surely they all had better things to think about and in some other location besides his flat.

“I know exactly what Sherlock will suggest,” Mycroft interjected.

“Oh do tell, dear brother,” Sherlock scorned.

“A pirate, of course.”

_ Dammit _ , that was what he should have said, but there was no way he could say it now that Mycroft had said it.

“Molly, you haven’t made a suggestion yet,” Sherlock evaded.

“Well, I was in the shop the other day, and I saw the cutest bumblebee costume.  It was made out of the softest plush material and had wings and antennae,” Molly beamed as she described the costume.

“A bumblebee,” John repeated.  “What do you think, Sherlock?”

Sherlock paused trying to think of the what to say, something that wouldn’t result in Molly leaving his flat without a goodnight kiss.  “I like bees.  Bess are nice.”

“Bees are nice?” Lestrade questioned.

“What?  No insult?” John scoffed.

“John, don’t forget, Sherlock is a genius.  He knows better than to insult his old lady,” Lestrade teased.

“Who are you calling an old lady?” Molly demanded.

“Sorry Molly, I was just busting Sherlock’s balls, no offense,” Lestrade apologized.

“Fine.  So, back to the matter at hand.  You’ve got lots of options to choose from now, John.  You’ve got an angel, a pumpkin...stop rolling your eyes Sherlock...a Disney princess, a zombie...” Molly listed the options.

“No zombies,” John interjected.

“...a ninja or a spy…”

“John said undercover agent,” Sherlock corrected.  “He might as well have said dress her up as Mary.”

“Oh, shut up, Sherlock,” John snapped.

“...a pirate…”

“I never said a pirate,” Sherlock interrupted.

“I said it for you,” Mycroft countered.

“I demand you remove pirate from the list,” Sherlock shouted.

“...and a bumblebee,” Molly finished, ignoring Sherlock.

“Maybe we should put it to a vote,” Mrs. Hudson suggested, giving Molly a knowing look.

“What are you two plotting?” Sherlock asked.  “I think the godmothers are in cahoots.  They’ve already decided ahead of time which costume they’ll vote for, and they’re planning to beat each of your individual votes with their joint vote.”

“Really, Sherlock, how dare you suggest we would do such a thing,” Mrs. Hudson feigned offense, but Molly’s blush confirmed that Sherlock’s deduction was correct.

“John’s the father, so he should decide,” Lestrade suggested.  “John, speaking father to father, you know the Disney princess costume is the right way to go.”

“Now, wait just a minute,” Mycroft piped up.  “I may not be a father but I do consider myself an expert on horror films, which really should be the basis for any respectable Halloween costume.”

“You may be a horror film expert, but when have you ever dressed up for Halloween or gone to a Halloween party?” Sherlock demanded.

“That’s not the point.  I’ve suggested two costumes already and I believe we’re still waiting on you to offer up any worthwhile ideas.”

Just then Rosie let out a high-pitched wail that sent both John, Sherlock, and Lestrade to their feet.

“I’ll get her,” Sherlock offered.  He was seated closest to the bedroom, and John was trapped between Lestrade and Mrs. Hudson on the other side of the table.

“She may need a nappy change,” John warned before Sherlock disappeared from the room.

Sherlock picked up his goddaughter, who definitely had a powerful set of lungs.  He held her against his chest and began to bounce and sway around the room.

“I owe you one, Miss Watson.  You saved me from some dreadfully dull post-dinner conversation.  You should be grateful you’ve been in here the whole time.  I should be the one crying instead of you,” Sherlock laughed.  Rosie’s cries lessened as she listened to Sherlock’s soothing voice.  “It’s too bad you haven’t learned to speak in complete sentences yet.  Then you could tell us which costume you prefer, as long as you don’t pick Mycroft’s.  No, you wouldn’t do that to your Uncle Sherlock, would you?”

“Here’s her sippy cup.”  Molly entered the room, handing Sherlock a two handled cup filled with juice.

Sherlock sat down on the edge of the bed with Rosie on his knee.  The toddler eagerly reached for the cup and then leaned back against Sherlock’s chest.

Molly sat down next to Sherlock, sliding her hand into his and leaning her head on his shoulder.

“How’s it going out there?” Sherlock inquired.

“Mycroft and Lestrade are debating on which Dracula movie is the best, and John and Mrs. Hudson are gossiping about one of the neighbors.  Did you know Michael and Steven broke up?  Apparently Mrs. Turner is completely broken-hearted over it.”

“Who?”

Molly shrugged and then asked, “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.  Everything’s fine,” Sherlock sighed, turning his head and kissing Molly on her forehead.

“You seem a bit put out.  I know I should have asked before I invited everyone over but I was afraid you’d say no.”

“I would have.”

“Sorry,” Molly said, squeezing his hand.  “I promise I will ask next time.”

“Good.  And I promise that I will sometimes say yes, but not often.”

Molly smiled broadly before tilting her head up and kissing him on the lips.

“If you hadn’t invited these people over, we could have been doing this hours ago,” Sherlock muttered once their lips parted.

“What was I thinking?  I’ll tell them all to leave right now,” Molly giggled, standing up from the bed.

“This one can stay,” Sherlock said, lovingly staring down at his goddaughter and stroking her blonde curls.

“Oh, should I tell John you’ve decided to kidnap his daughter?” Molly teased before exiting the bedroom.

“He’d never believe you,” Sherlock chuckled.

* * *

_ A few minutes later _

“I’ve found the perfect Halloween costume for Rosie,” Sherlock announced as he exited his bedroom and rejoined the dinner party in the kitchen.

The chatter stopped as all eyes turned to see Sherlock holding Rosie, who was wearing his Deerstalker on top of her head.


End file.
